


Bundling Up

by CherryPinkAndAppleBlossomWhite



Category: Progressive Insurance "Flo" Commercials
Genre: Backgammon, Crack, Gen, Humor, Inspired by a Commercial, Insurance Agents Gone Semi-Wild, Making Friends, Power Outage, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryPinkAndAppleBlossomWhite/pseuds/CherryPinkAndAppleBlossomWhite
Summary: It's been a long, wild Thanksgiving for Jamie and Flo.  Approving the policy covering repairs made to the Thompson's mud room should be the easiest part of their day, but fate, a power outage, a game of backgammon and a crushed motorcycle combine to change their plans.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Bundling Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/gifts).



Flo smiled as she and Jamie knocked on the front door of the Thompsons. They’d been called out into the field right in the middle of a particularly busy Thanksgiving, and the engines of their hogs were still smoking from the long miles they’d had to put between themselves and the ninjas they’d been pursuing. Flo still had little pieces of plaster woven throughout her sensible bob, and Jamie was sporting a blot of soot on his right cheekbone.

“Okay, you know the rules – keep it positive, make a fair deal,” Flo said, and she knocked the heavy black iron knocker that crowned the door of the Thompson’s large and lovely pink-frosted Victorian house.

“And don’t try to talk them into getting things they don’t really want!” Jamie said.

“Right!” Flo said. The door opened quickly, filling the air with the scent of burned turkey and desperation. The stink of the latter was far more familiar to Flo than the former.

““Hello!” Flo said cheerfully. “We’re from Progressive. You’re looking to renovate your mud room and want to make sure it’s covered by your bundle?”

“Yes, but – well, you…don’t look like the typical insurance adjuster,” observed Mrs. Thompson, who was wearing a sweater printed from shoulder to hip with tiny footballs.

“We’re the best Progressive’s got, ma’am,” Jamie said, and Flo smiled at his bragging but didn’t encourage it.

“Can we see the mud room?” she asked. 

“Well, sure.” Flo and Jamie entered the beautifully decorated Victorian-style house, and winced as the smell of charoal-coated turkey grew stronger. 

Mrs. Thompson then stomped on the floor of the foyer and shouted at her feet, “Abner! The insurance people are here!” 

“I’m playing with my trains, Phyllis!” Then he cursed as the parlor lights flickered and the record player’s tempo failed, then rose. “There goes the blasted electric again!”

Jamie and Flo shared worried looks. Though it had snowed in the neighborhood, there certainly hadn’t been enough on the ground to warrant a power outage from outside sources. “Do you have power supply problems?”

“Oh, we’ve had trouble with the electric in the house for years,” said Mrs. Thompson. “If I plug in too many things or Abner or the kids do the same thing, then it blows sky high for an unpredictable length of time. It just happened a few minutes ago – made me ruin a perfectly good turkey.”

“That sounds really really dangerous,” said Flo. 

Jamie spoke up suddenly. “I think there might be something wrong with your wiring.”

“Can your husband show Jamie around the basement while you show me the mud room?” Asked Flo.

“Eh, why not? It’s a free country.”

Moments later, Flo and Mrs. Thompson were in the mud room together, which was located at the side of the garage – big and sunny with large windows and a place to put all of their winter boots. They hats and jackets hung here, and there was a small coffee table with books and a place to sit.

“We need to put in new windows,” said Mrs. Thompson. “And there’s a crack near the baseboard over there that keeps letting in a chill.”

Flo hummed. “Well, your policy should cover it. I’ll have to give it a look over before I leave, but I don’t want to intrude on your Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh, we have plenty of time. I had to order out for pizza thanks to our horrible oven,” sighed Mrs. Thompson, her red curls bobbing in rhythm with her agitated words.

There was a pop and fizzle as the lights wavered in the mud room. “Eureka!” shouted Jamie from the basement. 

The house was quickly plunged into darkness.

Then there was when a loud cracking sound, followed by a terrible _boom_ from the front driveway.

``````***``````

“OK, stiff upper lip, Jamie. This isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me on a call,” Flo offered, while Jamie and the Thompsons shivered under Mylar blankets. For safety’s sake, they were waiting outside with a backgammon board while the fire department swept the house and made sure that there wasn’t a fire hazard inside the house. 

“We’re sitting in the snow playing backgammon while a tow truck pulls a tree off of our motorcycles,” said Jamie. “It has to be up there, Flo.”

“Nope, as long as it doesn’t involve chewing gum setting a person’s boat on fire, it’s just top five,” Flo said. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“Right here!” Jamie said, and then he groaned as Junior Thompson beat him and he set his peg back to the beginning of the course. “I am never going to win a game with you.”

“I’m a natural,” Junior said good-naturedly. His little sister, Susie, rolled her eyes and kept texting her friends.

Flo racked her mind for a solution. It was too early for Christmas carols, and they couldn’t make paper turkeys on the back of the Thompson’s policy. They didn’t have any warm food, and the pizza guy had run away from the chaotic scene, throwing the pizza the Thompsons had ordered into the snow like a Frisbee out of pure panic. 

“I have an idea,” she said.

“What kind of idea?” Jamie asked.

Flo grinned, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a set of keys.

Jamie’s eyes flew wide open. “Not the Progressive Monster Truck!”

“It’ll get us through this snow, and we can to a nice restaurant and pig out!” Flo turned toward the Thompsons. “What do you think?”

“It’s better than freezing my butt off,” Mrs. Thompson said.

“If they have chicken-fried steak I’m there,” Mr. Thompson said.

“Sounds good,” Junior said, as he leapt ahead of Jamie again.

“Becky said the Old Country Buffett has the best fruit salad, but I need Dunkies and if I’m having Dunkies we HAVE to go to the Ponderosa on South Street,” said Sue.

“Okay, Ponderosa it is!” Flo promptly pressed the call button on her keychain, and seconds later a very large white truck with blue detail work arrived. Flo unlocked the doors and helped the Thompsons into the car.

The fire marshal came up to them a moment later. “And it looks like your copper wiring’s gone. We can recommend you an emergency electrician, but you oughta find a place to stay for the next couple of nights until it’s fixed.”

“Huh, looks like Mr. Jamie was right,” said Mr. Thompson.

“Well, it was just a lucky guess,” Jamie told them. “I know that old Victorians like these have copper wiring in them, and if they don’t get replaced they short out.” 

“We’ll approve your claim right away,” Flo said.

“But won’t we have to do an extra filing?” Asked Mrs. Thompson.

“Nope! Everything should be covered by your bundle,” said Flo. 

The Thompsons made approving noises as Flo gunned the motor. 

“And just to make sure everything goes smoothly, you can stay overnight at Progressive Mansion,” Flo said.

The Thompsons were impressed and Flo had to hold back a proud crowing sound of her own. Oh, she was SO going to get a promotion thanks to this.

``````***``````

Flo and Jamie kept having Thanksgiving with the Thompsons after that incident, long after their wiring was fixed and their mud room renovated. They got their bikes back a couple of days later, looking as good as new.

On their way back to Progressive Mansion they had to deal with another explosion, three angry customers and five excitable Jamie fans.

But that’s another commercial.


End file.
